To Kill Or Not To Kill
by AstraCastle
Summary: Edward Cullen is a contract killer with no other way to go. With no family members or real job, Edward's only hope for money is to do what he does, and hes alright with that. But when someone wants Charlie Swan and his daughter Bella dead, will he be able to go through with it after falling unexpectedly in love with Bella? Or will he give in and pull the trigger? All human!


**A/N: Hey everyone! :D Decided to try my first twilight fanfic ever so YAY. I'm pretty confident about this one though I might not update often (fair warning). I'm already juggling two other stories and thought one more wouldn't hurt, but Im sure I'm terribly wrong so now this is gonna be a pain in the ass :/ Not to mention school starts in a couple days... UGH. Welp, lets just see how this turns out. Please read and review because reviews really make me feel like flying (though sadly I cant. I can do some flips though XD). Rated M for swearing and maybe possible drug references and violence. NO LEMONS. R&R, everything told in EPOV!**

**Disclaimer: (I'm only gonna say this once so remember it for all the other chaps!) Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer and she gets full credit for this awesome series! She is the genius behind it and, best of all, Edward Cullen :) Sadly I don't own it, but this story idea is completely mine and also the plot is sort of mine. Partial credit goes to the movie Grosse Pointe Blank which inspired this sort of. A little bit of this story mirrors that plot so check it out if you wish ;)**

_**Chapter One**_

Have you had one of those days? You know, the kind where you're supposed to do something for someone else, and even though you don't want to do it, whether you like it or not you end up doing it anyway.

Well that's the type of day I was having. That's the type of day I have almost every day of my miserable, pathetic life.

It was just another usual day for me, on a very special mission for Mr. Black, or Jacob Black to be specific. He was one of my many bosses who liked the jobs done and always looked to me to do his dirty work. To be completely honest, him and his little missions upset me and most of the time-hell, ALL the time- I hated doing them, but right now, many other people who owned stores and shit were being assholes and wouldn't offer up any jobs, so this one would have to do. If Jacob would give me the money for killing some people, I would gladly take it if it meant not going back to the way I used to live. Same went for all my other bosses- they asked, I'd do it, they hand over the cash.

Being a contract killer wasn't really the best thing in the world, but when you have nothing else to turn to, like no family and no job or anything at all, you become desperate. And that desperateness starts making you do some crazy stuff, like killing people in my case for a shit load of money.

But just because I got something out of it didn't mean I had to like it.

Sure, I guess after working with Jacob and all the other bosses for a couple of years I'm not so hesitant as I used to be. Now I just do the work without a complaint much to all their happiness. I knew every single one of them used to hate putting up with my shit when I would refuse to do the crazy stuff they wanted done, and I knew for a fact I hated it just as much as they did because it meant way less money, and I couldn't live with that. Under my will, killing people for a living was my job. My sick, delusional job. Like I said, I didn't exactly like it either, but it is what it is. This is what society gets for not giving me a damn job, leaving me poor and selfish for cash.

Anyway, I was currently on one of these 'missions', out to kill someone yet again. I was surprised I didn't get caught by now. Most of it was going pretty darn well, and I'm able to say that from inside some random guy's kitchen. Someone I didn't even know was going to die in a few minutes. I didn't know what beef this guy had with Jacob, given the reason Jacob likes people gone every so often, but I had to do it either way. The plot for today was to ease poison right into the victim's mouth and make it look like suicide, which were always the tough ones but I was sure I could handle it.

It was currently 7:34AM, and this guy was still asleep, due to wake up at 8:30. I know, I did my homework and research. Sue me. With ease I slammed the briefcase down onto the kitchen counter without making a sound. One of the awesome things about going on these so called missions: you learn stealth and all that cool crap that goes with it.

I put the combination and popped it open, revealing the things I would need to kill this guy today. A small bottle of drugs that I didn't know of but looked very intoxicating. This would make it look like he overdosed. Then there was a small bottle full of a deep purple liquid with a hint of blue in there. The poison itself that would kill in minutes. I wasn't really knowledgeable on poison so I had no idea what it was, but good thing Jacob left a small piece of paper with some quick info.

LITIPSON

Damage: Instant Death

Timing: Within 5 minutes

Effect: Travels through the body and kills all the cells and poisons the blood.

Amount: Any and you're screwed

I chuckled at that last part. Jacob and his graphic ways. I put down the bottle and studied the small dropper that was resting beside where the bottle had been. I knew the guy upstairs, whose name is Paul, was a light sleeper so the dropper was to just put a little in his mouth so he wouldn't wake up. Lastly, there was a sheet of computer paper with printed words on it in bold letters, sealed in a ziplock bag. A post-it note was stuck onto the front and written on it was 'Careful Cullen. Don't leave any evidence'. This was the letter I would put beside him as a goodbye letter to those he loved since again, this was meant to look like suicide. Nodding with determination, I made sure everything was back inside the briefcase before I quickly made my way for the stairs and quietly walked up them, two steps at a time.

Once I reached the top floor, I froze for a moment to listen for any sound. The floor was small with only 3 doors, which apparently consisted of a bedroom, a bathroom, and a guest room. I cocked my head to the side, listening carefully. My cue to continue was the faint sound of soft snores coming from the half opened door that led to the bedroom. I walked up to the door and the snore grew louder, blocking out my quiet but audible footsteps. Slowly, my hand reached out to open the door wider, and I almost screamed when it made a faint squeaking sound. I stopped instantly and bit down on my lip as the snoring stopped all together. Shit!

Usually I didn't fail at these things, and I knew I wasn't going to start now. I took a deep breath and prayed Paul would go back to sleep. I was actually expecting him to wake up and find me and call the damn cops on my sorry ass, but thankfully after a few seconds he fell back asleep the snoring continued on again. I let out a soft sigh of relief, waiting a few more seconds before slowly poking my head in to the soon to be scene of the crime. It was a small room, not too large and almost enough for two people. It was pretty basic with a regular bed set right in the middle, an old dresser and closet on one side of it while on the other side was a small night table that looked like it was about to break any second. It held a plain lamp, candy wrappings, and a digital clock that read in bright red numbers 7:55AM. I had more than enough time. Settled right in front of the bed was a normal sized TV that was still on but the volume was all the way down, not a single sound coming out of it.

Ever so carefully, I pushed the door open a little more, just enough so I could slip inside without a problem. I stayed near the wall once I was in, clinging to the shadows for the room was dark despite the TV, for it only added a bit of light. The blinds on the windows were closed fully, so the light from outside and the sun were blocked out completely.

I lightly walked over to the bed and stopped right at the side of the man laying before me. He was plump and chubby with a bald head and a small beard growing, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. The clothes clung to his body with all his sweat and I cringed, not liking the smell at all. He was tangled up in his sheets and totally unaware of my presence.

So this was Paul Irving.

_'Paul Irving,' Jacob had stated to me the night before. We were in his office after he had called me up for a 'favor' and he was explaining to me who the next victim would be and why. He gave me the files to read like always and as I flipped through them, skimming through the papers, he went on, 'He was my boss back when I worked at Wal-Mart a few years back.' I made the mistake of chuckling at that and when he narrowed his eyes dangerously at me, I instantly shut my mouth. Jacob was not one to be messed with. 'He fired me because he accused me of sleeping with his wife, yet honestly it wasn't me. A year after that, he screwed my wife in my very bed for revenge and did it up to when I dumped her.'_

_I had nodded in response, a little shocked I'll admit but not showing it to him. I knew to stay calm and collected with these things. Made things less awkward and made me look more professional._

_It made perfect sense now. A few months back, Jacob had been an emotional wreck when he had informed me things were over with his wife of 6 years, and that's saying something. I didn't really know him all that well since he had only started asking for me to kill people for him for a few months now, but Jacob wasn't the emotional type, more of the tough bad guy. It was rare seeing him that upset and sad, and honestly it had been one of the worst times. He had never told me anything as to why he had split things up with Leah, though I expected as much; I barely knew the guy back then. It was now clear to me that his former boss had fucked his wife, and it had been going on for a long time. His wife had been cheating and she never said a thing._

_I nodded my head in understanding, flipping through more paperwork on this guy and his info. Jacob paced back and forth for a bit before coming over to where I was sitting. He leaned over the desk I was at and said, 'Cullen, I want that bastard dead, you hear?' He had said it so coldly and so threatening that I felt like shrinking back in my seat. I felt something and looked down as he slipped a $100 bill in my pocket._

_Clearing my throat, I had nodded firmly and told him 'When have I ever disappointed you?'_

_He grinned that evil grin of his, flashing his white and gold teeth. 'Never'._

_I leaned back in my chair and smirked. 'Then why would I start now?'_

I shook my head, returning to the present in Paul's room and out of my thoughts. I know, I was a sick twisted person, but what can you do? When you had no job with no one who gave a shit and not one family member out there, you become poor and desperate. I needed this job no matter what kind of freak it made me or how bad I felt for the people that died. Jacob had issues with the people; not me though. All my other bosses, Austin, Ben, Eric, had personal stuff against everyone that I killed, except for me. Basically I was running around killing people I didn't know personally. I felt like a total ass every day of my life ever since I started, but in the end I couldn't complain. What choice did I have? Going out into the streets with nothing and eventually dying sooner than planned, or getting money quick by killing somebody? The answer was obvious.

Sighing, I tried not to think about it anymore. Usually these thoughts evaded my every thought, but I couldn't let it happen now, during a mission. I'd fuck up for sure and end up either chickening out and walking away, or getting caught by making a wrong move. Either way I would lose the money I earned, so I couldn't get all emotional now.

Putting on my determined face, I pushed the horrid thoughts to the side for now and continued with what I had to do. I quietly took out the Litipson Poison and the dropper again, feeling like total shit. Before I could lose my nerves I quickly opened the poison bottle and dipped the dropper inside, squeezing just a bit into it before putting the lid back on and returning the bottle. Carefully and ever so silently, I took a step forward so I was right smack next to Paul's face. I was glad that his mouth was already slightly open so I didn't need to do much.

Gulping, I gave the man one final, sad look of pain, mentally apologising to him before I held the dropper right above his mouth and squeezed the end. The poison flowed right out and I watched frozen in my spot as it dripped right into Paul Irving's mouth. His snoring stilled and he tasted the poison in his mouth, licking his lips before starting to snore again, though I listened as it started to get lighter and lighter.

Swiftly the ziplock bag with the letter was in my hands and I put my completely clean, leather black gloves on before zipping open the bag and taking the paper out. I placed it right on the night table beside the bed and shoved the ziplock bag in my pocket. The final step was to make it seem like he had killed himself. And that's what I did, taking out the weird looking pills and opening the container. I took two of them out and dropped them into his mouth, all the while feeling like a cruel bastard. And it was true. I was a cruel bastard and I knew there was no doubt I was going to hell for all of this, let alone all the other past killings. I then scattered a few pills on the floor and on the bed before carefully putting the container of drugs right in his left hand. It was right in his palm and I lightly curled his fingers for him around it, making him hold it in his now cold hand, and it made me shudder without control. The poison was already taking affect.

Stepping back, I watched in a bit of horror, which wasn't new, as he stilled completely on the bed, his breathing stopping all together. Not a single part of his body moved. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Hell, you could probably hear his breathing as well, but that was pointless; I knew he wasn't breathing anymore. Knew his heart was already slowing rapidly and if not, had already stopped beating.

Usually all my bosses didn't like it very much when they found out a person I was meant to kill was actually still alive, so I was requested to check their pulse every single time. Slowly I reached out towards him with my right hand as I reached his neck. Lightly, I pushed the collar of his t-shirt to the side and held two fingers to his cold, hard neck as I searched for his pulse. I kept trying to feel for one, checking every single spot on his neck until I was sure I wasn't going to find one.

He was dead. Dead because of me.

Before I could start getting overly guilty and antsy, I grabbed my briefcase and without another word bolted out of their as fast as I could, trying to keep my emotions and disgust inside as I kept my face blank the whole way down the flight of stairs. I wasn't supposed to show any emotion whatsoever. I was a killer; a cold hearted, bastard of a killer, and this was my job.

**A/N: Well that was interesting don't you think? So just a short introduction into what Edward actually does and how he feels about it, why he does it. All that crap. So next few chapters will just be about Edward's unhappy life as he does this before it's time for some real drama XD Please leave a review if you can! No matter how small, I LOVE hearing from everyone and their opinions, ideas, suggestions. Just, ANYTHING! Tell me how you feel about what our Edward does ;) Next chap should be up soon... I hope... **


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